THE DISTRESS CALL
by Clyde Andrews © 2006
Jason’s heart was pounding. His breath becoming shorter and deeper the more he exerted. His legs pushing all his force onto the peddles, like some out of control spinning wheel. He needed to get away from them.He’d had enough of their bother today, and he had a feeling it was only going to get worse if he did not.He was cycling like mad and just about to enter the relative safety of his street when they caught up with him; three of them --all muscles and no brains. The missing link-types that go through life enjoying the misery they inflict on others; especially Jason.
Before he knew it, however, he was off his bike and nursing a bloody knee. His back wheel twisted so that it made a horrible metal on metal scrapping noise when turned. The three bullies, satisfied that they had caused maximum damage with minimum effort, now let him be, laughing victoriously as they departed and adding derogatory remarks for good measure.
Jason now had to walk the rest of the way home, pulling his bike with him. In fact, he would now have to walk to school until he could afford to get the wheel fixed. He would have to put in extra hours with old man Jones at the grocery store. It would be a very long time before he saved up enough. He sighed, he hated his life. He hated being kicked around, being the one that had to endure the snide remarks and the emotional harassment. He hated the physical attacks. But above all he hated high school and being fifteen.
Throwing his bike down in rage; not only from what the bullies did to him, but also with himself for being so weak. He entered his home with sour intent. Straight away he noticed he was alone, which was just as well, for if his sister had been home he surely would have taken his mood out on her. In turn, his mother would chastise him. Something he certainly did not need at the moment. He wanted to be alone.
His thoughts turned to other matters when he looked at his scrapped knee: it was already starting to congeal and bruise. Just great, another scar chalked up to the high school experience, he thought. He had to get himself cleaned up, so he decided to disrobe and head for the shower. After he was cleaned up and refreshed he would then worry about his knee.
He was enjoying the soothing heat of the shower water over his tired body, when he was distracted from his reverie. He thought he heard someone in the house.
He poked his head out of the shower curtain and shouted: “Mum, is that you?”
There was no answer. After a moment of intent listening, he could not hear anymore noise. Jason shrugged his shoulders and returned to his shower and his own private thoughts of revenge. As remote as the possibility was that he would ever stand up to the local thugs, to dream his revenge gave him a slither of satisfaction.
While lathering up his hair, Jason heard the noise again. This time it sounded like someone was breaking something.
“Damn!” he cursed.
Quickly, he rinsed his hair and jumped out the shower. Wrapping a towel around himself and grabbing one of his Dad’s old fashioned-type razors --just in case he needed to defend himself-- he knew it was a rather weak weapon to use on a home invader, but he did not have time to think of anything else.
He opened his bathroom door, and a great cloud of steam joining him as he entered the back hallway. Cautiously, he began to search his house, room by room. His stomach turned as he thought of the possibilities of who was in his house. Surely if it were any of his family they would have answered when he called out. The adrenaline pumped through his body as his anxiety arose within himself. His eyes were wide with the anticipation of not knowing. He was now either ready to stand and fight, or run for his very life.
“I need you,” he heard a female voice say; barely audible, even in the quiet of his home.
Jason quickly turned around, but nobody was there. Water was still dripping from his hair. He had searched the house high and low and could not find anything amiss. Everything was just as it should be: except for the voice. Who was it? What was it? Where did that voice come from? What was that crashing noise he heard in the shower? Jason did not like unusual occurrences, especially ones that raised so many questions. He did not even like surprises.
“Jason, I need you,” the voice repeated with the same soft tone, but this time it sounded more desperate, more alone. His breathing became shallow as he tried hard to listen, not wanting the sound of his breath to disturb his concentration. Jason was confused, but he could not for the life of him see anyone in the house with him. And he certainly did not believe in ghosts or apparitions.
He decided that it was pointless to search the house any longer. His heart raced as he tried to hear where the voice was coming from, but he could not. He was straining to hear. The only sound that of the ticking of the lounge room clock. It was eerie, surreal even. Something was amiss. He stood there in silence while his body still dripped water; creating a small puddle on the tiled floor.
“Jason, I need you to come to-”
“JASON! What in God’s name are you doing? And why are you wet and naked? And what the heck are you going to do with that razor?” Jason’s Mum screamed as she entered the house, her arms full of the weekly shopping. She had almost dropped them in shock.
Jason, in his preoccupation with the strange voice, did not notice the towel had fallen from around himself. He was indeed exposed, in all his glory and right in front of his mother. His cheeks flushed, for there was nothing else he could do.
“Shit!” was all he could say as he quickly snapped out of his worry and covered his genitals.
“It’s too late now to cover yourself up. Jason Henry Wilkinson, you have a lot of explaining to do. I have had a busy day and I don’t want to be greeted at the door by my naked son. What the heck have you been up to?” His mother scorned. --he knew she was upset; she never used his full name if she wasn’t--
To make matters worse, Jason’s sister came out from behind his mother and laughed, “busted.”Jason felt like crawling into a hole.
Just when he thought his chastising was just getting started, his mother noticed his knee. “Go and get yourself dressed, young man. This instant -as soon as you have done that I want to see you. I will then tend to that knee.” Jason knew his Mum was not really angry. It was probably a bit of a shock to come home and see him like that. Jason’s Mum gave him a quick smile as he turned to his bedroom.
***
Later on that evening, when Jason had turned in for the night, he recalled how his family had a jolly old time at dinner laughing at his expense. Sure he explained to his mother all that he knew, but it did not stop them all from laughing. Even his father had a good chuckle. He noticed that his sister could not even look at him without giggling. Just fabulous, that’s all I need. What with the bullies and now this, he thought. My life is officially hell, he added to those thoughts as he turned off his bedside lamp. The room was now dark except for the crack of light that came from under the door. His Dad was still up, probably working late. He always worked late, just so he could afford to feed his family. His father may not be much career wise, but at least he had always provided for them. That was the one happy thought Jason went to sleep with.
“I need you,” the voice whispered again waking Jason from his dreams.
“Who is it?” he called back.
“I need you to help me.”
“Why? Why should I help you?” Jason said, his brow furrowing. After all, it was this voice that got him into trouble in the first place.
“Because you are worthy of me. Now come to me. I need you.”
Jason thought himself mad. I’m now talking to myself, what will my family say to this?
“Please, I need you,” the voice added, “now, come to me.”
“No. Go away. I’m in enough trouble as it is, and I don’t want any more,” Jason turned in his bed and hid himself in his doona.
It was a long while before the voice came again, just when Jason was in that wonderful state between sleep and consciousness.
“Jason, please come to me. I am incomplete without you. I need you. Help me,” the voice pleaded once more.
Jason stirred, thought about whether or not to answer, then decided not to. If he ignored her then perhaps she would go away.
“I will make you happy, I will. If you come to me now.. I need you.”
“Go away. I don’t need you,” Jason said. He noticed the light was out. His father had probably gone to bed. “I don’t want to wake up the house and be in more trouble. Leave me alone.”
“If you do not come to me. Then I will make your life hell,” the voice changed from that of desperation to one of power; a voice that was now becoming annoyed and was revealing its impatience.
“Look, I don’t need this. GO AWAY!” Jason shouted. Just then he could see the light turn on, which was something he did not want to happen.His father entered his bedroom. “Are you dreaming, Jason?”
“Um, no Dad... Well, err... yes, kind of,” Jason’s stomach went squeamish at the sight of his father looking unimpressed at his door.
“Well get to bed, son. We all have busy days tomorrow.”“Yes, Dad.”
The door was shut quickly, and with enough force to reveal his father’s annoyance.
“Well, what will it be? Will you come to me?” she said impatiently.
“If I come to you will you leave me alone?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, okay. Where are you?”
“I am in the Alps of Switzerland. Near the Matterhorn.” Now Jason knew he was either dreaming or completely mad.
“Switzerland? How the hell am I supposed to get there?”
“I will open a doorway for you to travel here. But you must hurry. Many want me, but I have chosen you to help me.”
“Oh, all right. Just let me get changed,” he sighed.
“Hurry, Master.”
“Why do you call me master?” But the voice ignored him. Instead a vortex opened up on his bedroom wall. It created a bright blue light in his room, and in that moment, in the split second after it happened, Jason realized he was not mad. He was going to Switzerland.
“Wow,” was all that Jason could say, given the circumstances.
Eventually the voice said: “I cannot hold the door open much longer,” the voice seemed strained. “I have no power... without you... Master.” Jason was as ready as he was ever going to be. There was a slight hesitation before he eventually plucked up enough courage within himself to step into the swirling vortex. Instantly it was gone, and so was he.
***
The vortex immediately opened out into a large underground chamber --well, Jason assumed it was underground. The walls looked like they were carved from the bare rock of what seemed to be inside the mountain itself.
“I’m trapped... where are you?” Jason called. For a long while there was no answer, an echo his only reply. Jason did not know what to do. Should he search for this strange woman? Should he stay put and wait for her to contact him again? What should he do?
Just as he was about to resign to the fact that he was trapped here forever: in Switzerland, inside a mountain and on the other side of the world from his home, the voice said, “I am here, Master. Down the tunnel.” The voice sounded weak, distant, and frightened.
Jason began to run. He ran towards a tunnel on the far side of the chamber. His footsteps echoing loudly and his breathing amplified. The tunnel then came to a fork, and that was enough to stop Jason in his tracks.
“Which way do I go to get to you?” Jason said, puffing from the sudden burst of exertion.
The chamber was a lot larger than he had first thought. In fact, the tunnel seemed to be more than a kilometer long before it got to the fork. He had taken off his jumper half way up the tunnel: as he was now sweating. He wiped his brow as he contemplated which direction to go, panting loudly in the silence.
What was it? -In mazes stick to the left and you will find your way out, or was that right? he said, verbalizing his thoughts. Jason was tired. It was probably well after 1.00A.M. his time.
“Find me... in a room... just beyond the right turn from the main hallway.. I am... waiting.”
As he ran down the right tunnel he began to get a pain in his stomach. The sort of pain he got when he did not like what was going on. But he could not contemplate it any more, he just had to find out what all this was about. He had to for his own sanity.
“I’m coming,” he replied.
***
Jason Wilkinson ran as fast as his young body could take him, to the room where he expected to find his damsel in distress. He expected to see her chained to the wall, a prisoner. What he expected, however, was not what he saw. Right there before him was another chamber, empty except for a large podium in the centre. On the podium was a sword, hilt in the air. Around the base of the sword there was an amulet. Both the blade of the sword and the metal of the amulet glowed the same colour: a pale misty blue, just like the light of the vortex.
“I’m glad... you made... it. A moment longer... and I... do not... know-”
“Where are you?” Jason called out, perplexed by the realization that he could still hear her voice, but not see her.
“I am... the sword.” Jason could not believe his ears.“What?”
“Hurry, Master... Take my hilt in your hand... I don’t have much time... They are coming...”
Jason was almost mad. He had been brought here by a sword, of all things. He had been brought here under false pretences. No, he was more than mad, he was furious. And a sword that had fooled him by pretending it was a female no less. Was this some sort of cruel joke? Jason was not impressed. He folded his arms in protest, his face dark.
“Hurry... please... please... plea-” the voice was cut off.
Jason looked around the chamber. He was baffled. He could not see anything in the room that would cause this ‘talking sword’ any harm. This sword had not only deceived him, it was also a liar. He turned to leave the room, maybe he could find that vortex again. It was a long shot, but he really had no other choice.
Just as he was about to leave the chamber, however, he heard footsteps echoing up the tunnel.
“Oh great, what now?” Jason screamed in the direction of the sword.
“Please...” the sword said again ever so quietly.
Jason had to strain to hear as the noise of the approaching people was getting louder and louder --Well, Jason assumed they were people. Mind you, he just discovered that a sword could talk. It could be anything coming up the tunnel.
“Okay, okay. I give in. I know I’m gonna pay for this, but I’m gonna do as you say... I will grab the sword. The sword that you are having me believe is the one talking to me,” he said with a sarcastic tone.
Jason reached out to grab the sword and pull it from the podium. The instant his fingers touched the hilt something happened. Jason could not explain it. Suddenly he felt better, suddenly he felt happier.
As he pulled the sword from the podium his brain immediately released endorphins, testosterone, adrenaline, and dopamine into his teenage body in massive doses, increasing his feelings of pleasure, adding to his awareness and alertness, making him want to scream with sheer joy. He now felt like he had never felt before. The hairs all over his body seemed to stand on end; from the ones at the back of his neck to the hairs that trailed up to his navel. He felt ecstatic and his man-hood stirred in response to the sudden surge in brain chemicals.
“Jason Henry Wilkinson, I am, Frostmourne.”
“My... I’m... I’m...I-I... don’t know what... you are... But this is fantastic... I have never felt so... great,” Jason gasped. He was almost out of breath from this experience. He wanted to run a marathon and then climb a mountain all in one go. Heck, I could even swim the Tasman sea too, he thought.
“I have chosen you, Jason, to be my Master. You are the one I want, and so long as you please me, I will please you,” Frostmourne whispered with a sensual voice.
“For a piece of metal you sure do sound damn sexy.” Jason had to control his feelings, he was almost going to climax right there and then in his jeans.
“I am whatever you want me to be to give you pleasure. Jason, remember, through me you will become the most powerful mortal on this planet. Also remember, whatever you wish I can command. I can take you anywhere. You can control armies through me. I am now part of you. You are now part of me.”Jason did not really hear what she said, he had to concentrate hard, thinking of a particularly hard math problem he had at school yesterday, just to stop himself from going over the edge.
He quickly managed to regain some sort of control over his hormone soaked teenage body; his brain now releasing calming chemicals to counter-act the previous surge in stimulants Frostmourne’s touch had created.
“What now?” Jason sighed.
“You must wear the amulet at all times. It is another part of me. Just like you would not function well without your heart, I cannot without the amulet. But be warned, if the amulet should become broken, I will no longer be,” she said. Jason understood. He placed the amulet around his neck, almost expecting another explosion of euphoria, but none came. He sighed, almost missing the feeling, and now wanting it back.
“What’s the matter, Master?” Frostmourne said with genuine concern.
“I’m fine... Never been better,” Jason said.
“Jason, I hate to disturb this moment, but we must attend to the ones that are coming into this chamber to take me away from you.”
“What? No way... Over my dead body,” Jason snapped, the excess of testosterone his brain released suddenly taking hold of his emotions again, making him territorial.
“Just relax. We will take care of them,” Frostmourne sent an image of her smiling into Jason’s head. She looked gorgeous to him.
Jason realized with a raise of his eyebrows, that the sword was never really talking to him at all. It was telepathic.
Just then about thirty warrior types entered the chamber, vanquishing the vision planted in his mind. They were clad in heavy plate-mail armour and helmets; brandishing broadswords and battle axes, they were like some sort of old fashioned warriors, like the ones seen in historical movies.
One of the warriors, the only one with a red crest above his helmet, stepped forward and said with a rough, authoritative voice, “hand over the sword, imp.”
“Never, you will have to kill me first. I will never give up Frostmourne,” Jason spat, suddenly realizing Frostmourne was already giving him a confidence he would never have had without her. And hearing himself speak those words he could not believe it was him. Not Jason, not the one that sat as close to the teacher as he could or the one that spend his lunch breaks in the library, away from everyone else.
“We shall see. You have not learned how to use Frostmourne; if you do not treat her how she likes, she will dispose of you,” the leader said.
“He lies, Jason. He is here to take me from you. He wants to use my power for his own devices. I only want you. I know you will be good to me. I have chosen you because you are a pure soul that has been dealt a rough hand. You are picked on, harassed and ridiculed. I am here to help you,” Frostmourne said filling Jason with her confidence.
“I believe you, Frostmourne,” Jason smiled.
“I know she is speaking into your mind. Do not believe her, parasite. She has a hold of you and she will never let you go.”
“Frostmourne has made me feel like... like I am someone special-”
“You are a worthless nothing. You have only been chosen by this sword because you are weak and easily controlled,” the man said with gruff certainty.
“He lies,” she whispered again into his mind.
“You lie,” Jason screamed.
“Frostmourne has no power without a mortal to wield her. What a perfect choice it would be to have a scrawny little no-good teenager as the one to use as she wishes. Someone that is a loser; someone that would not matter; someone like you.”
“Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!” Jason shrieked, pointing Frostmourne at the man. He stepped back, stunned by the puny little boys sudden outburst.
Jason then thought of how he hated this man. How dare he call him a loser. Who does he think he is? Jason then wished that the man was dead for saying such filthy lies. Just then, before Jason could blink and think another thought, the blue mist surrounding Frostmourne touched the man.
The man imploded right in front of Jason in an instant. The other men in the chamber gasped and stepped back from the teenager holding the sword of power.
“What... what just... happened?” Jason’s eyes were wide at the sight he had witnessed.
“I did what you asked, my love,” Frostmourne said with a satisfied tone.
“I... I... I... don’t... I didn’t.” Jason hated the idea he had just killed a man, but at the same time he loved the power he had over a man’s life. He was confused, he was exhilarated, he was concerned and he was impressed all at the same time. It was almost like the time he first touched Frostmourne. All things happened at once, and it took him a while before he could figure it out.
“Release to us the sword and we will let you go peacefully,” another soldier said, cautiously stepping up to Jason. Snapping him from his thoughts.
“I can get rid of these pests if you want, my love, my Master,” Frostmourne whispered into Jason’s mind.
Jason stressed to Frostmourne in his thoughts that he did not want them to be killed. Frostmourne understood. The men, in a split second were gone. They did not implode like the leader did. They just disappeared in a blinding flash of light once the mist from the sword extended to them.
“You did not kill them, Frostmourne?”
“No. You did not wish that. I only do what you wish, remember.”
Jason smiled. “Can I go home, please?”
“Yes.”
***
Jason’s Mum banged on his bedroom door. “Get up, time for school. Get up, or you will be late.” She always had to make sure he was ready early. Recently she had noticed Jason had lost the enthusiasm he once had for school.
She hoped he wasn’t the victim of some sort of school bully. But she dismissed the thought almost immediately. Jason never spoke of his days at school and she just assumed it was teenage hormones that made him moody and distant. She also hoped her son would talk to her if there was anything wrong. But before she could contemplate it any further, Jason burst out of his room. He was dressed in his uniform already. He was also smiling.
“You look happy today. Slept well, did we?” she smiled back at him, pecking him on the forehead as he passed.
“Yeah. I feel great.”
She noticed he wore a strange amulet around his neck. It was hidden a little by his shirt, but she was sure she had never seen that on him before. She also noticed something different about her son, but could not put her finger on it. He walked taller and with more spring in his step than usual. Jason, she noticed, had confidence. Something he had certainly been lacking recently.
“I’m going to get to school early, Mum. I have a feeling it is going to be a good day.”
“Sure, sweetheart. Your lunch is on the breakfast bar.”Frostmourne had retracted her blade so it would fit into Jason’s school backpack; just as he wished.
***
Approaching the school grounds, Jason smiled. He would show his three intimidators that they should not have picked on him.
“Are you all right, Frostmourne?”
“Yes, my love,” she whispered, reassuring him with her warm soft feminine voice.
“I will need you soon,” Jason smiled. An eye for and eye, he thought to her.Frostmourne understood; no killing.
“I am ready for you anytime you wish,” she said.
“Look who’s here. If it isn’t the library dweeb. You’re such a jerk, Jason. Why, I should smack you one just for looking at me,” one of the bullies said as he approached Jason, all aggression and smirks. The other two were close behind him, snickering.
“Yes, Mark. I am looking at you. What are you going to do about it?” Jason smiled with confidence.
“What? How dare you speak to me. I did not give you permission to speak, nerd,” Mark snorted. His buddies now surrounded Jason. Typical for this type of intellect; out-number the victim and then you are guaranteed an easy victory. But this time the prey was prepared for his wolves. Jason closed his eyes and imagined the three bullies wearing girls clothing. When he opened his eyes he saw the commotion his wish had caused. He laughed, along with all the other students, at Mark and his heavies wearing pink floral dresses and white lace stockings.
“Thank you, Frostmourne,” Jason chuckled.
“Don’t mention it, my love.”
“Why you... How dare you laugh at me... Why I ought to pound you into the-” But Mark was cut off.
Jason thought of his next punishment, something that would suit this Neanderthal --Yes, that’s it. Jason smiled again and the mist of Frostmourne reached out from his backpack, touching Mark. Within seconds Mark was gone. Vanished into the ether: just like the guards had done in the chamber. The other two bullies had already left, embarrassed by their sudden and unexpected uniform change. Mark would not do any harm to Jason now, and besides, he was now in a far better place much more suited to his talents.
“Wicked!” Jason said to Frostmourne as he began to walk with a spring in his step to class; the bell had already sounded.
“He’ll be fine back in the stone-age, my love.”
Jason chuckled.
***
Jason Henry Wilkinson was the Master of Frostmourne. He wielded the power of Frostmourne with compassion, and Frostmourne gave him the power to use as he pleased. He loved being the one Frostmourne chose. He loved being all-powerful, but with this power came responsibility. He would never be able to have a girlfriend, a fiancée or a wife. Frostmourne demanded Jason’s complete attention. A man cannot serve two Gods and be faithful. Frostmourne, with the power that she gave, demanded such faith from Jason. An all-consuming all-encompassing faith that Jason came to realize more and more.
“I love you, Jason,” she would always say after she had done what he wished.
“I love you too, Frostmourne,” he would always say in reply.
The End
